JazzReview, June 2003
Chris Parker
Pendle Hawk Carapace
George Haslam/Paul Hession
Having met at Leeds’ Termite Club in 1985 and subsequently collaborated in Haslam’s Siger Band (playing in Mexico and Cuba as well as touring the UK) before playing together in 2001 in the reeds player’s Anglo-Argentine Jazz Quartet, Lancastrian George Haslam and Yorkshireman Paul Hession know each other’s playing well, and this neutral-ground recording session (Colne’s Pendle Hawk Studio is near the Lancashire-Yorkshire border) showcases their close musical rapport throughout.
Dividing his time between his trademark tarogato and baritone saxophone, Haslam sets the tone for each improvised piece either with gruff, occasionally blearily dignified baritone statements or with the more strident, querulous sound of the Hungarian instrument. Hession – as anyone who witnessed his recent duo collaboration with the great Joe McPhee will expect – is unflagging in support, setting up a consistently propulsive battery of percussion effects and rolling, tumbling drumming, finely judged and precisely calibrated to maintain the duo’s momentum. On both his horns, Haslam has found a distinctive and original voice. His sound is almost conversational at times, particularly when his multi-textured tarogato is set off by Hession’s delicate brushes or his burly baritone climaxes over roiling kit-work. Pendle Hawk Carapace is both an absorbing addition to a fine catalogue of free music on SLAM, and a master-class in spontaneous mutual responsiveness.
Chris Parker
This summit between saxophonist George Haslam and drummer Paul Hession is long over-due. Collaborators on many projects, this is their first strictly duet meeting on record, produced by Haslam for release on his own label, SLAM. Because of their familiarity with one another’s capabilities, they are well versed in each other’s outlook and as such, their collaboration makes for a worthwhile and enjoyable view into their negotiation of each other’s sensibilities. Of particular interest is that this meeting was recorded in a studio in the Pennines, a mountainous region along the Scottish border containing magnificent natural beauty, which cannot help but be a factor in this meeting. Haslam alternates between baritone saxophone and tarogato (perhaps now an equal partner with the baritone, his main axe), sometimes simultaneously, while Hession largely sticks to a whirlwind of drums and cymbal expressionism. That’s not to say that Hession doesn’t explore the various timbres of his kit (rims, sides of the drums, snares on, snares off, etc.), as well as various percussion instruments like the cowbell. He is a commanding force and as such has always struck me as more of a "drummer" than a "percussionist" (though he is listed as percussionist on the tray liners). His approach focuses on a powerful, relentless exploration of the more traditional trap set, rather than on texture or abstract sounds (I’m thinking Lytton and Lovens here). The seven free form improvisations are based on a stream of consciousness/in the moment approach that ranges from more melodic playing to moments of pure passion. For instance, on the opening track, "Corbels", Hession sets up an ostinato, or as close to one as you’re going to hear from him, while Haslam’s lyrical tarogato flies over this pattern. They work themselves into a lively exchange that is never oppressive. "Blockings At Apex" focuses on long, sombre notes from Haslam’s tarogato while Hession pushes with his fluttering, agitated brushwork in an abstract manner. Haslam kicks it into overdrive by picking up his bari sax, and then tarogato, as the temperature level heats up to a frenzied pace. "Noggins" is another highlight as Haslam focuses solely on baritone, demonstrating his reliance on lyricism and melodic streams of notes, instead of blowing lines just for the sake of saying something. In other words, Haslam makes his statements count. Hession rumbles along with Haslam, illustrating his boundless creativity. The concluding track, "Eaves End", has Haslam in Rahsaan mode with simultaneous bari-tarogato reverberations underpinned by Hession’s eerie arco cymbal phrases, eventually building into the last hurrah. Haslam demonstrates that one can play improvised music with a melodic backdrop and Hession demonstrates his versatility, playing appropriate and inspiring sounds. Given the minimal instrumentation, this set will be of interest to those who enjoy freely improvised music as well as fans of both of these important British creative improvisers. Jay Collins, Cadence, March 2003
Haslam's contribution to Interstellar Space sax and drums conversations is much less angry and wayward than Coltrane's. Haslam uses his baritone sax and a tarogato, or wooden soprano sax, to discuss matters of turtle-like hawks in Pendle, UK. Haslam uses that woody sound of the tarogato to ask a question, and then he answers it with the rumbling baritone. Hession seems to paraphrase the proceedings for the audience, adding percussive criticism of the subject matter, asking of us, "Hawks with shells? How absurd!" He is ying to Haslam's yang here, and while the pair do get violently turbulent at times, they also provide more peaceful and melodic contemplation than their predecessors. Over the beauty of the land, the reedist takes flight, with the hard shell of drum hits shielding him from the elements beyond. I think that about sums up this very interesting disc. Beyond Coltrane 2002 by Fred Barrett.
I first encountered the music of George Haslam nearly twenty years ago when he was leading the Siger Band. Initially a quartet with George playing tenor and baritone, Pete Mcphail on alto and sopranino, bassist Tony Moore and Nigel Morris on drums; the Siger Band played a free-wheeling yet structured music; always aware of form whilst open folk influences that have always played a big part of Haslam’s musical vocabulary. The quartet became a quintet with the addition of trombonist Paul Rutherford, and Paul Hession replacing Nigel Morris. The Siger Band recorded two well received albums for the Spotlite label (both now out of print), with the band folding at the end of the eighties. Since then, Haslam has founded his own label, SLAM, to document his further musical developments, also releasing material from artists that he has encountered on tours throughout Europe and South America, with this duo album finding him reunited with long time friend and collaborator Paul Hession in an absorbing meeting of musical minds. Hession is a busy percussionist and is ideally suited to this free exchange of ideas. Never too busy to be obtrusive or domineering, but never the less well able to compliment, nudge and cajole the saxophonist into a genuine two way dialogue that avoids the pitfall of becoming too cosy and conversational. A free flowing debate as opposed to idle chatter. Haslam has now abandoned the tenor saxophone and chosen as a second voice the higher pitched tarogato, a Hungarian instrument as old in origin as the saxophone, and similar in its range as the soprano, and features it to fine effect on ‘Jack Rafters’, with his rugged and rough hewn baritone given full reign on ‘Purlin’. The album derives much of its interest not only from the communication from the two participants but also from Haslam’s use of the two horns, alternating on most tracks between the weighty baritone and the folksy cry and timbre of the tarogato. This most satisfying of albums concludes with what is a first for the saxophonist, and a somewhat natural extension of the alternating horns, with George playing both horns simultaneously a la Rahsaan Roland Kirk on an all to brief ‘Eaves End’. Free improvisation of the highest quality. All Music Guide François Couture Saxophonist {$George Haslam} and drummer {$Paul Hession} met in the summer of 1985 and have been playing together on and off ever since. Yet, {^Pendle Hawk Carapace} constitutes their first outing as a duo. Recorded in the studio following a tour of their {$Anglo-Argentine Jazz Quartet}, it offers a generous slab of free improv. The sax/drums duet is a tested format: {$John Coltrane} and {$Rashied Ali}, {$Evan Parker} and {$Paul Lytton}, {$Ivo Perelman} and {$Jay Rosen}, to name only three pairs from different generations. Haslam and Hession¹s improvising, as freed as it may be, still includes jazz references, taking them closer to the spirit of Fire Music than the more restrained currents rising in European Free Improv in the early 2000s. Hession¹s talkative drumwork gives birth to groove, no matter how twisted or free-form. Bouncing everywhere, his sticks swing. What he plays rarely feel abstract at all, even though it remains constantly challenging. Haslam¹s improvised lines often take the form of melodies, especially at the beginning of a piece. When a cruising speed is attained he may turn to more virtuosic playing (think {$Evan Parker}) or instead swap horns to provide a different color. Here he uses his trusty baritone sax and the slightly exotic tárogató (a double-reed instrument). In {&³Eaves End²} he blows into both simultaneously -- his first-ever attempt at this {$Roland Kirk} trick. The contrast between Hession¹s hyperactive playing and Haslam¹s more careful lines turns out to be this album¹s strongest asset. A very satisfying session. JAZZ VIEWS DEC. 2002 Nick Lea
JAZZ WEEKLY
GEORGE HASLAM/PAUL HESSION Pendle Hawk Carapace SLAM CD 315 Freely improvised duo sessions, involving a reed player and a percussionist always seem to invoke comparisons with John Coltrane's famous duets with Rashied Ali. That won't happen this time around. It's not so much that these seven tunes are worked over by two men who have been associated for nearly two decades -- a much longer time than Trane knew Ali -- or even that George Haslam adds the sour sound of the wooden tarogato to his baritone saxophone improvisations here. Rather it's that Trane and Ali really aimed for abstract space in their late 1960s duets. Yet the two Britons -- Yorkshire drummer Paul Hession joins Lancastrian Haslam here -- have such eclectic experience that melody implications always exist somewhere beneath the free sounds. For instance on "Jack Rafters" -- all the titles relate to carpenters' terms -- Haslam's tarogato suggest new melodies almost as soon as he starts playing the tune. As he continues, the woodwind player, whose associates have ranged from the conventional -- trumpeters Arturo Sandoval and Valery Ponomarev -- to the more experimental -- trombonist Paul Rutherford and bassist Simon Fell -- for a time seems to playing obbligatos to his own output. He'll play one phrase brightly, then answer it with a dampened tone. Eventually he begins constructing circular notes, sometimes pushing the Hungarian woodwind's pitch higher, into soprano sax territory. Meanwhile Hession, who has been part of The Sigur Band and Anglo-Argentine Jazz Quartet with Haslam, as well as often collaborating with Fell, whacks his sticks together for a reciprocal wooden tone in between ratamacues and flams. Overall, there's hardly a press roll that isn't complemented by a cymbal stroke, though he does drag his drumstick over the ride cymbal for maximum subtle reverberations. At the very end, Haslam forgets himself and gets into some Trane-like honking, but very shortly he's back to his unique tonalities influenced by experiences in Eastern Europe and South America. Haslam's main axe is the baritone and in his hands its output is pliable enough so that he doesn't have to depend on ocean floor tones to make his points. On "Scantlings," for instance, mid-range lyrical sounds mix with trills that sometimes tonally work their way up to Arabic ney mimicry. Suggesting a different part of the African continent, Hession exhibits some supple hand drumming. Elsewhere "Purlin," showcases Haslam's tough, masculine baritone roar, advanced with short, powerful snorts. Sylvan legato melodies are played in tenor range, while a cappella passages that modulate up and down the scale and seem to refer to czardas and freylachs, come from the bottom keys. Astute cymbal shading and tom tom rolls that emphasize the wooden properties of his kit are Hession's rejoinder to all this. A tarogato pioneer before it was adopted by other saxophonists like Peter Brötzmann, the reedist often relies on its grainy, not-quite-alto, and not-quite-tenor, timbre to leaven the baritone's bellow. But at the same time, he's so comfortable with both that he appears to switch back and forth between the mini and the giant horn almost without taking a breath. He can do circular breathing on either of them if he wishes as well. Often he produces reverberating overtones to amplify his initial note placement. For the time being, though, sticking to one at a time is the prudent course. His first recorded attempt to use both horns -- with the tarogato as the melody-maker and the baritone supplying the ostinato -- on "Eaves End", the shortest track -- is more atonal sounding than he likely intended. Let's just say Rahsaan Roland Kirk hasn't been challenged yet. Other than that, Pendle Hawk Carapace, a pointed record of melodic dissonance, is probably best sampled in small doses. That way you can hear how two longtime associates handle and negate the arid air that sometimes overcome challenging duos. -- Ken Waxman
